Yo Mia.  I got the firest beat and I want you and Mac to bust off it.
 So who goin first?
 [Mia X]
 It don't matter to me, Boo.
 [DJ KLC]
 Well, we gone flip for it.  Call it in the air.
 [Mia X]
 Heads.
 [Mac]
 Tails
 [Mia X]
 Mac, you up first.
 [Mac]
 Say, KL.  Since I gotta go first and shit I'ma kick this shit one more time
 for the old fake ass niggas who thought I lost it.  Ya heard me?  Check it

 Verse One:  Mac

 Street camo
 Cover my flesh
 I'm one of the best in the contests
 They steppin to Mac without a vest on they chest
 If all you wanted was rest
 Then I'm your Nyquil guy
 Your night time sniffin and stuffiness
 I kill with one shot
 The murder murder verses
 Quench lunatic's thirsts
 I get pussy from nurses
 Comin from churches
 The camouflage A-S-S A-S-S I-N
 I'm deadlier with my pen
 Then niggas with the mac 10
 But that was back then
 In 98 I'm strapped
 Cuz I'm on the map
 Ain't afraid to bust a cap
 And I get paid for bustin raps
 I like them ghetto girls
 Y'all can have them super models
 Cuz gangsta bitches got bodies like Coke bottles
 I get the game from my nigga V9
 I get the beats off the 3-9
 Them niggas can't see mine
 I'm lyrically a therapist
 A fuckin terrorist
 Boom Boom!
 I never miss
 I'm on the next level

 Chorus:  repeat 2X [Mia X and Mac]

 Well I'ma flip it like this
 And I'ma rip it like that
 And I'ma rip it like that
 And I'ma flip it like this

 Verse Two:  Mia X

 When the smoke clears
 I'ma still be here nigga
 Mic in my hand
 Rowdy doin the rip the rapper dance
 I set the lines behind the fallen emcees that challenge me
 You cross my path
 You gets flipped in my wrath
 The aftermath left bitches quiet as fuck
 Like when the neighbors saw the crim and the cops came up
 I rips it up from the gut
 Like Jack the Shanka Man
 Chasin hoes down with the knife in his hand
 The better man's gone be Mama
 And you know this nigga
 On the top or the bottom
 I'ma show this nigga
 He's goin to sleep
 I'm too deep
 The lady alligator
 Stick your seven inches in the swamp
 And I'ma fade ya
 I made you motherfuckers recognize the south
 For the gumbo flava comin out my mouth
 About drama
 Bout paper
 Bout settin it off
 Fuck the verbal fantasies
 My shit is real y'all.

 Chorus:  X4

 Verse Three:  Mac and Mia X

 [Mac]
 Pass me the mic
 And let me dig into they chests
 Like AK bullets through they proof vests
 In a shootin fest
 I murder emcees like media
 Mac the street encyclopedia
 Who wanna test me?
 Bless me with somethin knottin
 Bitches who start pussy poppin
 Rhyme I quote em
 Nines I told em
 Like wallets
 I'm rock solid
 And I like it when they suck and swallow it
 I'm hardcore
 Fuck that slangin and shit
 Cuz when I'm on the mic
 Niggas be bangin and shit

 [Mia]
 I love them buck wild crowds
 Mama be center stage
 Throwin lyrics at them niggas
 Like hand grenades
 You can' take the projects out of a bitch like me
 Six figures make me throw bigger block parties
 Still warm my bed with a thug nigga of course (fo sho)
 Still in the mix with all them messy ass hoes
 Still bust a freestyle with my camouflage son
 Off top, then leave the studio with my gun cocked
 What